toma mi mano (y ven conmigo)
by hi yes this is anonymous
Summary: (Originally posted on AO3) What if Héctor had offered Imelda and Coco to join him on his temporary leave? How would things with Ernesto have turned out if Héctor's family had gone with him?
1. Chapter 1

Imelda didn't hate music. In fact, she loved listening to the songs her husband came up with—but, there was an uneasy feeling in her gut, after last night, when Héctor had told her he'd be going with Ernesto to pursue his dreams of being a musician.

He had offered her to come with him, and to bring their little girl, Coco, with her _—"We could tour the country together, as a family,"_ he'd said.

She had only agreed because he was her husband, the love of her life, and the thought of raising Coco alone at home with Héctor absent made her feel sick to her stomach.

However, she still felt uneasy about Ernesto. There was something about that man—something that seemed rather off, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Either way, the morning they'd packed their things into the wagon and left, Imelda kept a close eye on Ernesto, watching as he and Héctor conversed.

They stopped at an inn around evening. Coco slept in a bed next to her parents' in their temporary room.

As she tucked her daughter in, Imelda whispered, "Mi hija, I cannot tell you how much your father and I love you. And I promise that no matter what happens, we will always be there for you." She smiled at the little girl, before continuing, "However, there is this feeling in my gut…that things will not go as smoothly as your father says. If something bad happens, I want you to get help—you know those men with badges? If anything bad ever happens during our stay with Mr. de la Cruz, I want you to get those men. They may be strangers, but they are strangers you can trust.

If, and only _if_ , anything bad happens, I want you to know that there will never be a time where Mamá or Papá will ever stop watching over you and loving you, because you are our pride and joy. Our lives couldn't be happier than they are now, with you here."

Coco simply nodded and yawned, before her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep.

Imelda smiled, before she kissed her daughter's forehead. "Goodnight, Coco."

As she headed over to her and her husband's bed, she heard Héctor mumble softly, "Ernesto is a good man."

She sat down, pausing for a moment. She wanted to believe him on that, she truly did, but a part of her had some doubts. "…maybe he is," she said slowly. "But, that could change. He could pull some stunt that'll put us in jeopardy, while it might benefit him. We can't be so sure."

"Imelda, he and I have been friends since childhood," Héctor replied, frowning a little. "Don't you remember when I introduced him to you?"

Imelda was silent, as she recalled the memory.

 _"Imelda, this is my childhood friend, Ernesto," Héctor had said, as he pointed to the other man. "Ernesto, this is my love, Imelda."_

 _Ernesto had stared at her for a moment, giving a skeptical look that only she had seemed to notice. He then smiled and took her hand, shaking it. "Es un placer conocerte, señorita."_

 _His voice sent chills down the woman's spine. Imelda looked at Ernesto's hand, before slowly shaking it as well. "El placer es… mío." She winced as Ernesto kissed her hand, and quickly yanked it out of his grasp._

 _Ernesto's smile faded. "Oh."_

"Yes…he was – something, alright," Imelda lied.

"I promise, you'll both get along just fine," Hector said as he laid back. "You'll see."

Imelda pursed her lips as she rested her head on a pillow. ' _I wouldn't be so sure about that, mi amor_ ,' were her last thoughts before she soon closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep, like her child had.

* * *

 **(End notes: and before anyone asks, yes - there's going to be a lot of Spanish dialogue. But like, I'm Puerto-Rican. Let me randomly insert Spanish into a fic about Mexican characters. XD )  
**


	2. Chapter 2

"Mamá… Mamá, wake up!" were the first words Imelda heard when morning came. She opened her eyes, only to see her daughter sitting in her father's place, wearing a yellow dress.

Imelda smiled at the child. "Good morning, Coco." She looked around the room for a moment. "…where is your father?"

"Papá is downstairs, talking with Ernie," Coco replied, smiling at her mother.

'Ernie' was what Coco had been referring to Ernesto as ever since she could speak. Unlike her father, who looked up to Ernesto as a friend, she looked up to him the way many children her age would look up at adults who were friends with their parents – an honorary uncle.

Imelda didn't blame her daughter, she was only five years old – a five year old's view on the world was much more different than a twenty-four year old's view on the world. Coco did not have as much experience as her mother did with skeevy looking people. She didn't have to deal with callous words from men who'd hide their true nature behind a smile – all Coco ever dealt with was the usual things a five year old had to go through.

Imelda got off the bed, before she crouched down and reached underneath it to grab her shoes. She placed them on the bed, before searching through a bag she had taken with her, filled with clothes. She grabbed a simple, purple dress and went to the bathroom.

Before she closed the door, she said, "I'll be out in a few minutes. I'm just going to wash off. You can go downstairs – get some food. You need to eat."

Coco nodded, and left the room as her mother closed the bathroom door.

"Papá, Papá!" Imelda heard the little girl exclaim. After that, she heard footsteps rushing downstairs. She chuckled, shaking her head. ' _She definitely gets that from her padre_ ,' she thought, as she placed her nightgown aside, before stepping into the tub.

She turned on the water, waiting for it warm up a little, before she sat down. She let out a sigh, just as a bit of steam arose from the water. "Now _this_ is one of the things makes this trip worth it…"

She closed her eyes, trying to think of peaceful thoughts, but her mind was clouded by her husband's friend. "Even when I'm trying to relax, I can't get my mind off this man – this _fake_ ," she groaned, rubbing her temples. Maybe her wording was a little harsh, but then again, he wasn't initially the peachiest person when they met – with that look of skepticism, and the smile he used to cover it up. In a way, he was a bit of a fake.

After a few minutes passed, she grabbed a towel and got out of the tub, drying herself off. She put on her dress, and then opened the door. She grabbed her shoes from the bed and slipped them on, before she finally left the room, heading downstairs.

"Wait, so you're saying we should do the performance tonight, only a few hours after we reach our destination?" she heard Héctor ask.

"Yes," Ernesto replied, in his usual suave tone. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No, of course not – it's just a little soon."

"Some things just begin sooner than others, mi amigo – like becoming a star."

Imelda listened, but remained silent. Once she reached the bottom of the steps, she felt as if everyone's eyes were on her.

"Imelda!" Héctor cried out, walking over to his wife. "Buenos días, mi amor."

"Buenos días, Héctor," Imelda replied, smiling warmly at her husband. However, her smile faded as Ernesto walked over. "Buenos días, Ernesto," she said, her tone flat as ever.

"Buenos días, Imelda," Ernesto responded. "Cómo estás?"

"Estoy bien." Imelda then muttered below her breath, "En su _mayor parte_ , de todos modos." She turned back to Héctor. "Where is Coco?"

"She's over there." Héctor pointed to one of the seats nearby, where the little girl was sitting, eating some scrambled eggs.

Imelda nodded at her husband before she made her way over to her daughter.

Coco looked at her mother and smiled. She pushed her plate aside and hugged her mother. "Mamá, I heard Tío Ernie and Papá talk about Papá's lullaby," she began, "Tío Ernie wants to sing it in front of a lot of people tonight."

Imelda froze. Her arms fell to her side as she registered what the child had just said. Ernesto wanted to turn little Coco's lullaby into some type of performance gig. Her body shook as she turned from her daughter, to look at her husband's friend.

What kind of sick joke was the world playing? What kind of person would ask their friend to use a lullaby made for their child – and _only their child_ – as a song to sing in a crowd of (possibly) hundreds of people, who wouldn't even understand the true meaning of the song?

Why did Héctor agree to this? _What was he even thinking?_

One thing was certain: Ernesto was on the thin ice now, _and_ she'd have to have a stern talk with Héctor once they all reached their destination.


	3. Chapter 3

The ride lasted for nine more hours, until they finally reached a house big enough for three adults and a child. How convenient it was, that the house was located near a stage that was not too far away.

"Aaand we're here!" Ernesto announced, putting down the reigns as he got off his seat.

Once Héctor had gotten off his seat, they went to the back of the wagon, where Imelda and Coco were sitting.

Coco's eyes lit up as she saw her father spread his arms wide, and quickly moved over to him. "Papá!" She rushed into his arms, and he placed her down on the ground while ruffling her hair. She then looked at Ernesto and began to hop up and down. "Tío Ernie, guess what?"

"What is it, niñita?"

Coco stopped hopping, and began swaying back and forth. "I'm gonna be a musician just like you and Papá one day."

Both men smiled at the little girl. "I'm sure you will be a fine singer," Ernesto said, patting her head. "If you take some lessons from me, of course."

Héctor looked at Ernesto, but before he could say anything, he felt something tap his shoulder. He turned around to see Imelda. "Ah, Imelda—"

"—Héctor, may I speak with you alone for a few minutes?" she interrupted him. She tried her best to stay calm, but it was hard, considering the news she'd heard earlier.

"Of course." Héctor nodded. And so, he followed her as she began to the back of the house. "So, what is it that you want to—"

"What were you thinking?!" Imelda hissed, finally letting out her frustrations at her husband.

"I – I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean by that," Héctor replied, stammering a little as he backed away from the seemingly-scorned woman.

"Oh, don't play dumb!" Imelda rolled her eyes. "You agreed to letting _him_ use Coco's song for your first performance – how could you do that? That is her lullaby, a song meant for family – not a bunch of strangers!"

"I know, I know but—listen…" Héctor looked around, making sure no one was listening. "I tried telling him that we should think of a different song to use, but he kept insisting and he just wouldn't listen to a word I said. He said that if I wasn't going to comply, then I should just do this on my own, because he wouldn't work with someone uncooperative."

"So you gave in? Just like that?"

"It's not like I had much of a choice, I mean—every person comes a lot way to get to a certain point in their life. It wouldn't be right for one of us to walk away at an opportunity to perform in front of an audience."

Imelda frowned, turning away from him as she rubbed her temples. "That son of a…" She shook her head. She turned back to Héctor. "I hope that after this, you put some sense into that man."

"I will, I swear on my life," Héctor whispered, taking Imelda's hand and placing his own on it in a reassuring manner.

Imelda sighed. She looked him in the eyes, whispering, "Good luck."

A small smile made its way across the man's face. He kissed her forehead. "Thank you."

* * *

Indeed, that night, there was a big audience that boomed and cheered as Ernesto danced as Héctor played his guitar, both singing what was once a lullaby – now, it was being sung as some type of love ballad(*) to the public.

"For even if I'm far away, I hold you in my heart; I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart."

Imelda watched from backstage, with Coco tugging her dress as the song went on.

"Mamá, do you think that one day, I'll be able to sing onstage one day, just like Papá and Tío Ernie?"

Imelda smiled sadly. Her daughter's innocence was as evident as ever. "You are your father's daughter, so yes – yes, you will."

Coco clapped her hands as she continued to watch the performance.

"Remember me, though I have to travel far. Remember me, each time you hear a sad guitar."

Ernesto threw his arms up into the air as he sung the last verse, while Héctor plucked his guitar's strings, trying to keep up with his friend's rhythm.

"Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be; until you're in my arms again, remember me!"

The crowd cheered even louder than before. Many of its members stood from their seats, clapping.

"Thank you, thank you!" Ernesto said as he bowed. "You are all too kind." He then noticed Héctor was simply standing in place, so he elbowed him and whispered, "A guitarist doesn't just stand around. _Bow_."

"Oh, right…" Héctor began bowing as well, hiding a scowl as he saw his friend blowing kisses to the crowd. He began to notice how most of the applause was directed towards Ernesto, even though it was _he_ who wrote the song, not his friend.

Sure, Ernesto wasn't taking full credit – but that didn't stop Héctor from feeling a little sore.

* * *

Ernesto walked backstage, letting out a satisfied sigh, with the knowledge of all the success he had made tonight.

However, that satisfaction was soon forgotten as he felt a something rough hit his back. He fell to the ground, letting out a groan as he clutched his chest.

His eyes narrowed as he turned around, only to see an all too familiar face pick up a black shoe.

"My apologies, Ernesto," Imelda began, "my hand must have slipped."

She smirked as she began to walk away, leaving Ernesto to lie on the floor.

"Maldita perra," he hissed. He watched as she began to walk back towards him.

" _Hijo de puta_ ," she spat, before she walked away once more.

"Mark my words, woman," he muttered below his breath, as he slowly got back on his feet, "I _will_ get back at you, one of these days."

* * *

 **(End notes: I've said it before on AO3, but I'll say it again here. I do _not_ enjoy describing song performances - because apparently, it's not something I'm good at. But I'm proud with most of this chapter, so I'm not gonna mope that much - just a little salt.**

 *** = pretty sure in the film, Ernesto's version is meant to be a love ballad. I could be wrong, but at the same time, a lot of the movies he starred in seemed to have some romance thrown in, so it's plausible his bastardization of the song is a 'romantic, lovey-dovey' type.)**


	4. Chapter 4

"Papá," Coco started as Héctor tucked her into bed, "how come Mamá doesn't like Tío Ernie? He's a nice man, right?"

Héctor paused. "…yes." _For the most part_ went unsaid, for he didn't want to worry the girl with his troubles. "But what gave you the idea that your Mamá and Ernesto dislike each other?"

"Because Mamá threw one of her shoes at Tío Ernie after the performance, while you were still onstage," Coco answered simply, clutching the blankets. "I asked her why she did it after she got her shoe and whispered something to him, and she said, 'One day, you'll learn why.'"

Héctor stared at his daughter for a moment, registering what she'd just told him. Imelda threw a shoe at Ernesto – but _why_ did she do it? Was it to get back at Ernesto for—?

He smacked his forehead as he reached the conclusion. "Oh, Imelda," he groaned, "must you let your anger get the better of you, mi amor?"

"Huh?" Coco tilted her head in confusion.

Héctor shook his head. "Never mind – I'll have a talk with your mother later," he said quickly. "Buenas noches, Coco." He kissed the little girl's forehead before he got up and left the room, shutting the lights off as he closed the door behind him.

He placed his face in his hands, sighing as he made his way through the halls. He appreciated the fact that Imelda tried sticking up for him, he did, but the extremes she resorted to by throwing a _shoe_ at Ernesto… Héctor silently prayed, hoping things wouldn't get worse after this, and that everything would be alright by tomorrow morning.

However, his prayers were interrupted as he bumped into something – or rather, _someone_.

"Hola, Héctor," Ernesto greeted his friend in a rather calm tone – which didn't help soothe the nerves that were already present within the lanky man.

"Ern…Ernesto – so good to see you at such a late time," Héctor said, his legs wobbling as he forced a smile.

"Now, what's with the anxiety, mi amigo?" Ernesto asked, smiling a bit as he took a step closer, to which his friend took a step back.

"Me? Anxious?" Héctor laughed a bit. "Now, why would I be—?"

"—you know what she did, don't you?" Ernesto interrupted, his smile now replaced with a small frown.

Héctor looked around, desperate to find a way to get past the bigger man. "I…I…"

Ernesto grabbed Héctor by his shirt collar. His eyes narrowed as he whispered harshly, "You told her, didn't you? You told her about our argument. That's why she did it."

"I didn't know she would do that," Héctor whispered, looking his friend directly in the eyes. "She just asked, and I told her…"

Ernesto didn't say another word. He let go of Héctor's collar, before his fist collided with the other man's chest. He didn't stop once his 'friend' fell to the ground – instead, he kicked his sides, causing him to hiss in pain. Once he was finished, Ernesto placed his foot on Héctor's chest.

"Since it seems I cannot trust you to keep certain matters between us a secret," Ernesto began, "it seems that I have to resort to these measures. Now, listen: you want to be a musician, right? And I want to become a star. So, here's a deal: you stay and write the songs – no matter what their original value may be – and I sing them. We make some money, though maybe I make a little more success – either way, we gain a large audience." He then stomped his foot. "But if you are not willing to take up this offer, then I cannot guarantee I'll be as gentle with your precious wife and child as I'm being with you right now."

Héctor's eyes widened in horror. The pain that surged through his body no longer mattered to him, once he heard his so-called friend mention his family. "You…you wouldn't…"

"While I would love to get some payback for what your wife did to me, I would hate to harm a hair on your cute little girl's head." Ernesto faked a smile. "So, do we have a deal?"

Héctor closed his eyes. He would not let his 'friend' see the tears building up. "Yes, we have a deal," he whispered.

Ernesto removed his foot from Héctor's chest. "Excelente. Comenzamos mañana." He then began to walk towards his room.

Héctor got up, coughing. He tried to keep quiet, so that no one else would wake up. Placing his hand on the wall, he tried to stand up steadily.

Just as Ernesto opened the door to his room, he turned back to Héctor and said, "Oh, and if you tell anyone about this, then I'm afraid I cannot assure your family's safety." After he finished speaking, he entered his room and shut the door, leaving Héctor alone in the hallway.

Héctor looked at the end of the hall, where him and Imelda's temporary – now, possibly permanent – room was.

"Lo siento, mi amor," he whispered, as a tear rolled down his cheek. " _Lo siento mucho_."

* * *

 **(End notes: Protect** **Héctor2k17)**


	5. Chapter 5

When morning came, Imelda noticed a few things when she woke up.

The first thing she noticed was how Héctor seemed to be more…worn out than usual. There were bags under his eyes, and when she saw them open, they were bloodshot. It was very concerning.

"Ah, good morn—" he didn't finish his sentence, as he started coughing.

"Héctor, are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he replied, with a wave of his hand. It didn't sound very convincing, though.

"Are you _sure_ you're alright?" Imelda questioned.

"Yes, I'm _fine_." Héctor then got out of bed, walking towards the door. "I'm…going to make some breakfast," he said slowly, before he opened the door and walked out of the room.

Imelda stared at the doorway for a few minutes, registering how strange her husband's behavior was. He never lied to her before, so why the sudden change now? It just didn't make any sense to her.

However, there was one thing she knew for certain: she would have to find out what was going on with him, one way or another.

* * *

Héctor tried his best to push the memories of last night to the back of his head, but he couldn't – no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened.

He'd trusted Ernesto, he thought he was his friend – and yet, it turned out that after all this time, he really was just using him. Ernesto didn't care about him – only wanted to make profit off of the songs _he_ wrote for _his daughter_. They were never meant to be heard by the public in the first place.

How foolish he had been, to have accepted Ernesto's offer. If he'd just realized the truth sooner, then maybe he wouldn't be stuck in this situation now.

And the worst part of it all was that Héctor had doubted his wife when she had expressed some distrust in Ernesto. He had insisted Ernesto was a good man – when all this time, he wasn't. Imelda was right all along, and yet, he couldn't even apologize to her for not believing her at first. God, what he would give to go back in time and stop this mess from ever happening…

Héctor's thoughts were interrupted as he heard little footsteps rush down the stairs.

"Papá, Papá!" Coco cried out as she ran to her father.

"Yes, mi hija, what is it?" Héctor looked down at his daughter, just as she began to tug on his pants.

"Can you teach me how to play the guitar?" Coco asked, looking up at her father.

"Yes, of course," Héctor answered. He smiled down at his daughter. Even in harsh times, she was his light – his pride and joy. And because she was his pride and joy, he would endure _anything_ just to make sure that she and her mother were safe.

Coco smiled and hugged her father's legs. "Te quiero, Papi."

Héctor knelt down and picked up his daughter, hugging her properly. "Yo también te quiero, mi niña."

"Aww…"

The two turned, only to see Imelda standing by the doorway to the kitchen, with a small smile on her face. "You're both too precious," she said.

"Mamá!" Coco ran over to her mother and hugged her legs. "Papá is going to teach me how to play the guitar!"

"Is he, now?" Imelda asked, looking at her daughter, before she looked at Héctor.

He nodded. "Yes, this afternoon—"

"—ah, so good to see that everyone is awake," a familiar voice interrupted.

Both Imelda and Héctor frowned as they saw Ernesto walk in.

"What, no 'buenos días'?" Ernesto asked, pretending to look hurt by the couple's silence.

"Buenos días, Tío Ernie," Coco said, smiling at the man.

' _No. Not 'tío.' He's anything but an uncle_ ,' Héctor thought, recalling how Ernesto had threatened to hurt Coco the night before. But he could not object to his daughter calling the traitor 'uncle,' because he couldn't let his suffering be known. All he could do was remain silent about it.

"Buenos días, Coco," Ernesto said, his voice sounding saccharine sweet.

"Tío Ernie, Papá's going to teach me how to play the guitar this afternoon!" Coco exclaimed as she waved her hands in the air, excited.

Ernesto paused, before he chuckled a little. "Oh – oh no, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid your padre will be very busy this afternoon."

Coco's smile faded as she looked at her dad for a moment. "Why?" she asked, turning back to Ernesto.

"He's going to be writing some songs," Ernesto explained. "Helping out a fellow musician. You understand, don't you?"

Coco looked at the ground. "I…I guess…" she murmured, sounding a little disappointed.

Héctor tried to hide a scowl by biting his lip. Anger swelled inside him. This wasn't part of the deal – not once, did Ernesto mention that he wouldn't be able to spend time with his family; _his own child_. Not once did he give him a specific time to write the songs, he merely just said he'd do it.

Imelda walked over to her daughter and knelt down to her level. "No te pongas triste, hija mía." She patted the little girl's shoulders. "If you'd like, we can spend time together while Papá…" she hesitated for a moment to finish the sentence. "…finishes his job."

Coco's eyes lit up, and she nodded. "Okay."

Héctor looked at his family, smiling sadly. He glanced back at Ernesto, who gave him a smug look.

The days to come after this one would be hell. He just knew it.

* * *

 **(End notes: I swear, this has a happy ending. I promise, it ends happily.)  
**


	6. Chapter 6

"Would you some tea, Mamá?" Coco asked as she held a small plastic teapot.

"Why, yes," Imelda replied, playing along as she held her own teacup.

Coco tilted the teapot, making it look as if she were pouring tea into her mother's cup. She then put the teapot down and clapped her hands, grabbing another small teacup and clanking it against her mother's.

Imelda smiled at her daughter. No matter how each day started out, one thing was certain – if anyone could make it better, it was little Coco.

"Mamá…" Coco started, putting her teacup down. "…have you noticed something strange?"

Imelda stared at Coco, a little surprised at the girl's question. "…yes, I have."

"Oh, okay." Coco picked up her teacup once more. "Because Tío's been acting weird…" She paused. "…and Papá doesn't usually let work get in the way of family – at least, that's what he told me before; he wouldn't put work before his familia, but…" Coco stopped once more. "I don't know… it's all strange…"

Imelda continued to stare at her daughter, soaking in every word the child had said. She didn't expect such a mature tone from the child. Eventually, she replied with, "Yes, it is strange."

"…I'm sorry," Coco apologized, beginning to fiddle with her thumbs. "I didn't mean to ruin the tea party."

"Oh, no – no, no, no." Imelda shook her head quickly. "It's fine, mi hija. You are allowed to say whatever is on your mind."

"Okay," Coco mumbled quietly.

* * *

It didn't take too long for Héctor to regret agreeing to the deal – or blackmail, whatever fit the situation best. Either way, Héctor kept looking back on the days when he actually had freedom – when he was able to object to anything wrong, when he was allowed to go home; all of the times he'd be able to do anything on a free will. And now, he was stuck with a fraud who he had once thought of as a friend.

Héctor merely watched as Ernesto went through his papers – papers containing lyrics for the songs _he_ wrote; lyrics that were now being stolen.

"Ah, _perfecto_ ," Ernesto whispered, turning to the other man. "After our next performance, my legacy will begin. And, in a way, it'll all be because of you."

"But you're not even going to give me decent credit, are you?" Héctor asked quietly. "All I'll ever be known as is your guitarist, in the public's eye."

"Well, yes – but it's not like you were really that charming to begin with," Ernesto said bluntly. "A face like yours, on a poster? With a hooked nose like that? You're better off being in the background."

"I may not be the most handsome man in Mexico, but at least I don't play music just to gain fame," Héctor retorted. "And, I don't resort to plagiarism for the sake of attracting a crowd."

"It's not plagiarism," Ernesto argued. "I'm just…borrowing the songs, and the credit."

"I thought borrowing things didn't involve nearly fracturing one's ribcage," Héctor scoffed.

"Oh, quit your whining." Ernesto glared at Héctor. "Your bones are in place, and you're still alive – and no harm has come to your family. So if I were you, I'd get rid of this attitude of yours."

Héctor gritted his teeth as his eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't have this attitude in the first place if you weren't blackmailing me right now."

Having enough of the man's attitude, Ernesto backhanded his 'friend' across the face. "He tenido suficiente de tu actitud, Héctor!" he hissed. "Si quieres que tu preciosa niña y tu dama permanezcan ilesas, entonces deja de actuar como _una perra_."

Héctor rubbed the sore parts of his face for a moment, before he glared at Ernesto. "Fine," he muttered. "Pero no creas que voy a ser una presa fácil, mientras cantas una versión bastarda de 'Un Poco Loco' durante la próxima actuación."

"Mi amigo, ya eres la presa," Ernesto said, laughing a little. "Una vez más, he demostrado que soy más dominante que tú."

' _That's where you're wrong_ ,' Héctor thought to himself as he watched Ernesto continue to laugh. ' _The one with true dominance is the one who doesn't back down easily. So, laugh while you can, because one day, you'll get what you really deserve_.'


End file.
